


Before Ferns Flowered

by SqueeCountry



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Minor Injuries, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueeCountry/pseuds/SqueeCountry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver returns to the Foundry for some first aid after a rough night on patrol. He and Felicity have a moment while they banter over bandages. Flirty Oliver is more angsty than smooth but Felicity might not mind. A short fic of downtime somewhere between S2 and S3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Ferns Flowered

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written a fic before but I've loved reading what everyone else has written on this site and to this fandom. I thought it was about time to contribute. I loved Felicity as Oliver's cranky EA, and since those days are over, I sorta relish throwing it in here for old times' sake.

He was still in his Arrow suit when she brought over the bandages and hydrogen peroxide they kept in the Foundry. His hands were probably the worst Felicity had ever seen, bloody and swollen with split knuckles and what looked like half a throwing star through the fleshy web of his right thumb. 

“Eeesh! Oliver! That is disgusting and painful for me to even look at. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to the hospital? That there is your bow hand, what some of us here refer to as ‘the money maker.’”

Oliver stifled a groan as he pulled out the star, leaving a gash slowly filling with fresh blood. “I’m sure you’ll survive my injuries, Felicity. I will be fine if you just patch me up please.”

“If you say so.”

“They got the drop on me tonight,” he admitted, “That’s all. I was almost done with the last patrol when they showed up. Almost done.”

Oliver morosely gazed towards his bow in the glass case as Felicity picked gravel out of his torn skin. “Who am I kidding?” he murmurred sadly, “There won’t be an ‘almost done’ for me. My ‘last patrol’ probably won’t be on my terms.” Felicity furrowed her brow and gave his shoulder a soft, gentle squeeze, but he was unmoved. “Sometimes, out there at night, I think about abandoning this life before it kills me. Before it makes John do something he’ll regret forever. Before it turns you into someone you wouldn't recognize.”

“Well,” replied Felicity while she focused on his split knuckles, “I’d like to see you try to make Digg do something he doesn't want to do, and I know very well who I am, thank you very much. You don’t need to worry about us.” She slowed her blotting of his left hand to begin work on the right one, but paused to look at him. “But if you’re worried about you getting killed, the line forms behind me.”

He gave a huff and small smile. 

“I don’t know where this self-doubt is coming from, if it’s because you lost the fight tonight,” Oliver glared at her. “Fine, fine, ‘drew even’ in the fight tonight, but although Digg and I worry out of our gourds - well, me mostly, because I come from a long line of worriers- We believe in you and you always come back to me.”

He softened his glare to a gaze and clasped her soft hand under his bloody one. Felicity caught herself and stood up straight. “And to Digg. And to the Foundry. All of us. And we’ll be here for you. Always.” 

She sped up dressing his hands as if she was suddenly on the clock, chewing on her lower lip. 

“If you want to stop all this, we can stop. It’s not like you don’t have other things to keep you busy. I know first hand from your overqualified and underpaid Executive Assistant, that you have a number of outstanding Queen Consolidated matters that need a CEO’s attention. I’d be happy to give you a prioritized list if you want. I carry one with me in my purse in case you start to feel Corporate all of the sudden.” Felicity mockingly cooed and arched an eyebrow at him until rolled his eyes and gave a slight huff at her attempt at levity. 

“Ahh, I suppose it’s just wishful thinking on my part that you would trade the thrills of vigilantism for the horrors of a 9 to 5.” She smiled to herself as she went about applying super glue to the deepest of his cuts. 

Oliver watched her as she worked. 

“The island and my time there had its host of horrors.” He almost whispered the words, tentatively. “It was an everyday nightmare. There was nothing good there. Certainly not me.” 

Felicity held her breath at his words, lest she spook him into silence. He never talked about the island and she firmly believed he needed to. He paused, and Felicity thought the window was closed. 

“I suppose there was this one thing.” Oliver sounded like he was unsure of himself. “ This one thing that was like a rare spot of beauty. A flower - red with white stripes.” She returned her attention to his hands. “It had prickly, diamond shaped leaves and smelled of salted fruit, if that’s even a smell.” His shoulders shrugged slightly at the memory. “It was the only thing that ever bloomed on the island. The only thing that was there just to be appreciated. Everything else about that island was harsh and unforgiving. But I was fascinated by that flower. It was so beautiful to me.”

“So what, you’re a ninja horticulturist now?” 

“I’m serious, Felicity. I would never be able to pass one of those flowers without stopping to stare at it. Sometimes I would just be mesmerised by them, the way people are with laundromat tumble driers, or you with the salmon ladder.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he waited for her to blush again.

Felicity jerked her head up, “Hey! Nice try, buddy… when have you ever been in a laundromat?” He smiled at her deflection and cleared his throat before continuing. She was almost done with this hands.

“I would let myself enjoy this silly wild plant, and let myself be reminded that there were good things in the world. Good, beautiful, things that I wanted and would fight for if I ever got off that island.”

She had finished treating his hands and stepped back to admire her work. “Well, Oliver, despite what you’ve been through, it seems you still manage to find beauty anywhere you look. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Oliver’s eyes darkened and he reached one of his swollen, bandaged hands out to her forearm. Felicity's eyes went wide and she leaned into his touch ever so slightly.

“Sometimes, I think the beauty finds me.” He looked right at her for a beat longer than was comfortable for either of them. The moment was broken by Digg whipping open the door and bounding down the stairs into the Foundry. 

Felicity jumped a little and turned back to her computers. Oliver stood to his full height when Digg addressed him, “What’s up?”  
Oliver kept his eyes on Digg, purposefully not making eye contact with the blonde woman sitting at her computer terminals, still breathing heavily. “Nothing. Just getting myself fixed up.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've not written a story since, oh gosh, probably freshman year of high school. This is un-Beta'd. Gentle reviews and tips on writing dialogue welcome. Looking forward to the new season!


End file.
